


Bad Touch

by Shiny_snotra



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attack described in details, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'll make it a tag, Lucas deserves all the love in the world, M/M, My poor baby deserves a break, You can't imagine, anxiety attack, is that a tag?, so much hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19118713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_snotra/pseuds/Shiny_snotra
Summary: Something's happening. He's not sure what, but it's here. And he needs his boyfriend. What's going on?





	Bad Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back at it.
> 
> Honestly, Skam France ending on Tuesday hurt me real bad. I don't even know why. But it's a mess.
> 
> I'm also very familiar with depression, anxiety issues and my psychiatrist is worried I might have manic episodes. Real fun. But I'm slowly working on myself. Tonight's just not a good night. So I decided to write what I was feeling.
> 
> Lucas is quite suffering a lot in this. I would say sorry, but I feel it's something that would happen in Canon. I based his crisis on my owns. It sucks. But he has an Eliott. He's gonna be okay. I have a Laurie, sometimes. It's good. It helps, just a bit.
> 
> This work, written with my guts, is dedicated to my amazing best friend, Laurie. My sweet disaster, you are a light in the darkness. You help so much, even though you don't know what to do. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you so much.

Loud, is the first word that he manages to produce in the pudding that is his mind. It's loud. Too loud. Too much. It makes him want to curl on himself and cover his ears, except he can't seem to move. He doesn't feel much, right now, it's all kind of numb, but something's loud and he can't move to protect himself from the noises. It's awful. It makes him want to cry. But he can't do that. Crying is for babies, toddlers, and people suffering. He shouldn't cry. He's not suffering.

Just as he thinks that - and oh it seems to be such a effort to produce words in his mind, thoughts barely coherent - he becomes aware of the pain in his chest. Well, it's not just his chest, it's his whole body rebelling against him, but the chest is the most painful. Why? It should be important, to know why he's in pain and why this place in particular, but the connexions aren't happening. He should do something, but what? It's important, vital even, but he doesn't remember. Fuck, why are people yelling? Can't they see he doesn't like it? If he could, he would definitely be rolling his eyes at them, stupid people.

There! He knows what he must do. Breathe. It appears to be a colossal effort, but he needs it. He opens his mouth and- fuck, his lungs are on fire. And what is making that raspy sound? It seems like a horror movie. Did Lisa let a movie run on TV? Strangely, breathing is hurting him even more. He feels disconnected, like he's in his body, in so much pain, but at the same time his mind is floaty, far away, detached from physical matters. Vaguely, he can hear someone saying "I don't know what to do! I've never seen him like that, fuck. What should we do?"

Suddenly, there's a hand on him. Without thinking, he curls even more - or he thinks he does, he's not sure what's happening - and there's a piercing yell. It's annoying. Who's yelling like that? They have neighbors, they won't be happy. But he wants the hand gone. It burns. He's never liked being touched without warning, ever since his childhood. He manages with the boys, with Mika, but it's always grating on his nerves. Why does everyone want to be physical? Seriously, personal space. He only gladly accepts the little loving touches of his mec. He even happily touches his mec. But that's it. And that hand, he needs it gone, and like yesterday. It burns so hot, it hurts, he feels suffocated. It makes his skin itch, and he wants to shed it like a snake. Why isn't he a snake? Distantly, he remembers being called another animal, but what is it? He can't catch the name.

"No! How do we stop him without touching him, Jesus?"  
"I don't care, just stop him before he hurts himself even more!"  
"Eliott!"

Eliott? He knows this name. It ignites something warm, but not hurtful in his chest. Bright blue/grey eyes. A smile wider than the fucking Grand Canyon. And so much love. If Eliott is here, he needs to see him. Oh. His eyes are closed. Why are they closed? Why can't he see Eliott? He struggles, but opens his eyes. It's blurry. Everything's blurry. He doesn't knows where he is. He can barely make out a dark color in front of him. There are figures moving too. People? It's fucking exhausting, trying to see them. He would close his eyes again to rest, but he wants to see Eliott. His mec. The love of his life. All his lifes.

"Lucas. Mon petit choupisson..."

That voice. It's like honey with chocolate mixed with some nuts. It's soothing. He already feels himself relaxing. But why does he sound so sad, so worried, so broken? It's not right. Eliott should only smile, be happy, laugh and enjoy life. Something's wrong. A silhouette's moving closer to him. He knows this silhouette. It's Eliott. Of course it's him. He found him. They always find each other.

"Mon cœur, can I touch you? Can I take your hand?"  
"I wouldn't try that, he screamed bloody murder when Manon did."

Shut up, annoying voice. It's Eliott. Of course his mec can touch him. Always. They belong to each other. And somehow, his Eli must have seen his approval, because he feels a cold hand touching his own burning one. It's so soft. Barely there, but still present. He loves it. His mec, his raccoon! - his brain just had an epiphany, sue him - he always knows what Lucas needs. He's like the ice slowly soothing the burns, the fresh air in his lungs.

"There babe. You're doing great. Can you touch me? Just my chest babe. I want you to breathe with me. Just do what I do."

He tries to obey. How could he do anything else? He feels the very real, very warm and hard chest with his fingers. He can feel the movement. So he tries to copy it. If Eliott is doing it, it must be good, right? Slowly, he can feel his vision coming back, the lines not so blurry. He can see the magnificent ocean eyes of his boyfriend, his partner truly.

"There babe, come back to me, alright? You're doing so great, you're amazing. Just come back to me, so I can kiss you as a prize."

A kiss is a great motivation. Everything in Lucas agrees with that. He just needs to figure out how to do what Eliott wants him to do. That's a bit tricky. But his mind is not so clouded with that stupid fog anymore, so it's easier. He can still feel the pain in his limbs, but it's no longer burning. Eliott extinguished the fire in him.

"Eli..." his voice is croaked, it hurts to talk, but he needs his mec to know he's here.  
"Yes Lucas. I'm here. You're here too. We're here. Don't worry, okay? Just focus on yourself babe."

He feels a hand caressing his face, and he can't help but lean into it. His Eli always makes him better. He also feels a glass pressed against his lips, so he opens up and drinks the water offered, bits by bits, trying not to strangle himself.

He's back. He's exhausted. But his man is here now. It will be better. They will make it better, together.


End file.
